The Fields
by OneEightActual
Summary: [mAU, Elsanna] Following the passing of her parents, Elsa is left to look after her sister Anna and the family farm. But Elsa's lust for her sister permanently damages the fragile relationship they once had. Now with nefarious forces coveting the farm, Elsa must pull herself together, or see everything fall apart.
1. Prologue - Fault

**A/N:** Not great at this "writing" thing. Feedback, even negative is appreciated.

* * *

Five days a week, she would wait. She would wait, at the end of the long gravel driveway. She would be surrounded by a forest of cornfields. Every stalk of corn was wilted, and dry. Walls of yellow enclosed the gravel driveway. The same walls surrounded the farmhouse just down the driveway. The paint of the house's siding chipped in too many places to count.

Many drove past the farm on a four-lane paved road. It was the only farm along the road whose crops remained unflattened by the harvest. Those that gave the farm more scrutiny would be surprised by the ethereal figure standing in the sliver of gravel where the corn breaks. Always dressed in a pale white dress, with pale skin and pale hair, her fleeting image was like that of a ghost. Some thought it was frightening. Others thought it was beautiful. The curious ones that came looking her on their way back from the town of Arendelle, would be disappointed to find her gone.

The school bus came every weekday at 3:18 PM. Sometimes it would come early. More often than not it came late. But every time, she would wait. There was nothing to do, nothing to see, not even her phone to keep her company. She would always wait anxiously. And upon Anna's arrival, when the doors of the school bus would open, and Anna would come down the steps, Elsa would want to wrap her arms tightly against the sister she loved, pull her tightly into an embrace, and tell her how much she missed her.

How much she loved her.

But that would never happen. Down the steps she would come, not a word spoken. Straight into the farmhouse, and into the kitchen. Upon which, Elsa would quietly pad up the stairs and into her room. She would shut the door, and lock it, and cry, and ask herself how this came to be.

This was her fault.

* * *

Weeks earlier, she found pamphlets on Anna's desk. Her desk was always in disarray. A variety of papers from homework to schedules littered the desk. But the pamphlets stood out. They were inked in muted blue. Three lines of text were underneath a large bold title.

"You are not to blame."

"You are not alone."

The last line of text sent a wave of dread through Elsa's body.

"Sexual assault is a crime."

And that's how the nightmares began.

* * *

 _It would be one of the days Anna didn't come back. Those sorts of days became more frequent since the death of their parents. There would be a knock on the door, and Elsa would look out the window. Blinding white light would stop her from seeing what was outside. So she would pad down the stairs, to the front door, where a men in a dark uniforms would be waiting. Imposing white SUVs would fill the narrow driveway._

 _She would open the door._

 _And her heart would thunder in her chest._

 _"Elsa Nielson?"_

 _"Yes?"_

 _"I'm Constable Kristoff Bjorgman. You're under arrest for sexual exploitation of a minor."_

 _Rough hands grab her, and pin her against the wall._

 _"You are not obliged to say anything, but anything you do say may be used in evidence."_

 _A pair of handcuffs tighten against her wrists._

 _"It is my duty to inform you that you have the right to retain and instruct counsel in private, without delay. You may call any lawyer you want."_

 _An officer shoves her roughly forward. She stumbles. She is yanked by the back of her slip, the fabric tearing slightly._

 _"There is a 24 hour telephone service which provides a legal aid duty lawyer who can give you legal advice in private. This advice is free of charge."_

 _She down the driveway. On the other side of the road, leaning on the fence, Hans Westergard is smiling._

 _"If you wish to contact a legal aid lawyer now, I can provide you with a telephone number."_

 _His smile erupts into laughter._

 _"Do you wish to contact a lawyer now?"_

 _Elsa stutters._

 _"Do you understand?"_

 _Tears well up in her eyes._

 _"Elsa Nielson, do you understand?"_

* * *

She woke in a cold sweat, and she could not fall asleep afterwards.

Anna was alone and afraid. She was shaking with fear. She opened the bottle of pills. It was a prescription that was not in her name. She took two pills. On some days she wished she took ten. Then she wouldn't have to live with the fear, or the guilt, or the shame. But she couldn't. Not now. She wanted to be angry, to fight, to be anything but the endless pit of hopelessness that she currently was. She used to be feisty. She used to be spontaneous. Full of life. Brave, and not afraid of anything. But all that was left of the old Anna was but a hollow shell.

The pills took effect, and her thoughts become hazy. Whatever of part of her keeping her awake surrendered and withered away.

Down the hall, Elsa was awake. Another night, another nightmare. It was always the same terrible one, over and over again.

Every car passing down the road sends a jolt of fear through Elsa's body. One day, one of the cars will pull into the driveway, and a man in a dark uniform, with a gun, will step out.

A white SUV with blue and red livery sped down the road, past the farm. It's red and blue lights were flashed bright in the darkness.

Elsa stepped away from the window.

How horrible it was that this was her life.


	2. Clear Skies

A four lane road in the middle of nowhere, not a building in sight. Flattened corn and wire fences the only company for miles and miles. This was where a boxy green delivery truck labelled Westergard Markets flattened a silver Dodge Caravan. It seemed impossible, the heavy low-floor delivery truck somehow leaping onto and crushing the full length of the car. The roof was flattened and the minivan's occupants were left a bloodied mess. The truck was flipped on its side with its grocery orders spilling out the back. Despite this, the truck suffered minimal damage.

Sunny skies and a rainbows were probably what Kai Nielson remembered the most about that day. It was the first thing he noticed after clambering out of his truck. He wrote it on his statement: "It was a sunny day with clear skies and rainbows. The car came out of nowhere."

Kristoff Bjorgman was a rookie cop at the time. It was his first solo patrol. He was assigned to the stretch of road between the town of Arendelle and the village of Weselton. Arendelle was by no means a small town. In fact, Arendelle was by no means a town at all. Boasting a population of a half-million, Arendelle was in fact a small city. In contrast, Weselton barely qualified for incorporation. This contrast gave Kristoff an excuse to wear a heavy plate carrier vest, adorned with webbing, and pouches and magazines. He was quite proud of it, despite its bulk and weight, but falling flat on his face while chasing after suspects in town quickly changed his mind.

When Kristoff arrived, he took a moment to figure out what to do. He opened the driver's side door and found the driver slumped at an unnatural angle and covered in blood. He was dead. He opened the passenger side. There was a woman impaled by metal. She was also dead. He asked the delivery truck driver what happened.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. I was just driving, and the Dodge swerved and came straight at me. You can see the tire marks going past the yellow line."

"Are you hurt?"

Kai pointed to his head.

"I hit my head during the crash."

Kristoff spoke into his radio.

"551 to dispatch, I have three casualties, two possibly DOA. I count one male and one female in a grey minivan. I have one male outside a delivery truck. Male, 40 to 50 years of age in minivan is unconscious at an awkward angle, no breathing, no pulse. Female 40 to 50 is impaled. No breathing, no pulse. Male 50 to 60 said he hit his head, but he looks okay."

Kristoff gave Kai a plaster and told him to sit. As he began laying pylons across the road, the ambulance arrived. Three paramedics stepped out with large bags slung over their shoulders. The three paramedics extracted the man from the minivan. They left the woman inside. A paramedic checked the man for a pulse. He found none. Another examined Kai's head. A female paramedic gave Kristoff the wallets of the minivan victims.

"Agdarr and Iduna Nielson of 9184 Svenson Road."

 _Strange names._ thought Kristoff.

"Oh god, no!"

Kristoff heard Kai scramble towards the body of the man. Kristoff turned and stopped him.

"You know him?"

"Yes, he's my cousin! Agdarr is my cousin from my mother's side!" Kai began sobbing. "Oh god, I killed him! He has kids! What are they going to do?"

That was the question that lingered in Kristoff's mind as he drove down the road to the address. He had been instructed by his Sergeant to inform the children and bring them to the hospital. It didn't feel right to leave other officers to clear the scene, but his Sergeant insisted. His SUV rolled into a narrow gravel driveway. He stepped out and walked to the front door of the small farmhouse. The farmhouse was painted white and had what Kristoff described as a "rustic charm." The door opened a crack, and a pair of pale blue eyes looked up at him. The computer said she was 18, and her height corroborated that. But the way she quivered in his presence made her seem like a small child.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Uh...I'm Constable Kristoff Bjorgman, Arendelle Regional Police. Can I come in?"

"We don't consent to any searches. Go away." she began to shut the door.

"No, wait! This is important!" the door shut in Kristoff's face. Kristoff knocked again.

"Listen, Elsa. This is important. We need to talk about this."

Kristoff heard footsteps in the gravel behind him. He turned and saw a girl with reddish-blonde hair. According to Kai, Agdarr once said that she smelled of flowers and looked like sunshine. Anna.

"Anna Nielson."

"That's me! What's up?"

"I'm Kristoff Bjorgman, Arendelle Regional Police. I have something very serious to talk to you and Elsa about, and it'd be better if we talk about it inside."

"Okay, sure. What's all this about?" Anna produced a key chain and began unlocking the front door.

"It's bad news. You'll want Elsa to be with you as well."

Kristoff's radio squelched.

"Dispatch to 551, standby for firearms database return. 9184 Svenson..."

Kristoff shut it off.

The front door opened and Anna stepped inside. Kristoff followed her in.

"Elsa! I'm home! There's a police officer here! His name is Kristoff, you should meet him!"

Anna took her shoes off and headed for the kitchen.

"You can sit in the living room if you'd like, Officer Bjorgman. Do you want anything to drink?"

Kristoff walked into the living room. "No, I'm fine, thanks." His heavy boots left indentations in the carpet.

Kristoff sat down. Anna entered the room with holding a plate of biscuits and a glass of milk. She set the items down on the coffee table.

"You can have some biscuits if you'd like." she took a sip of her milk. "We don't get guests often, so this is a real treat for me."

"Uh, thanks." This was the first time Kristoff was telling someone their loved one was dead. He passed over the course for death notifications in favour of a tangentially more useful course in college. All he had was a few words of advice from his Sergeant. _Set the stage, do the deed, leave your card._ He picked up a biscuit and took a bite. He looked over at Anna. She was also eating a biscuit. Noticing his gaze, she beamed at him. She seemed so nice and innocent. Kristoff wanted to stall, but it was inevitable that he would have to tell her. He needed to tell her and Elsa.

"Is Elsa coming down? She needs to hear this."

"Elsa!" called Anna. "You'll have to excuse my sister, Officer Bjorgman-"

"Please, call me Kristoff."

"Alright, Kristoff. Sorry about my sister. She's not used to guests in this house."

"And you're not used to fascist scum!"

Elsa was standing in the entrance to the living room with a long rifle. She had it pointed straight at Kristoff's chest. Kristoff dove on his side and reached for his pistol.

"Don't even try!"

At that moment, Kristoff wished he was wearing his plate carrier vest. He put his hands up in front of his chest.

"Anna take his gun."

"Elsa, what are you doing?!"

"He's an agent of the Westergards! A jackbooted thug that knows only how to follow orders! A linear thinker that only knows how to think in one dimension. The 'yes sir' type that can't think beyond his little paycheque and fascist brainwashing."

"How could you say something like that? Kristoff is a perfectly nice man."

"You are a fool! And what do you know? You've only just met him!"

"If I may interject, your parents are dead."

Elsa pulled the trigger.

Outside, the skies were still clear.


	3. De-arrest

Click.

It resounded for a moment, the illogical sound. Sense could not be made of it. Not the man on the carpet, lying on his side, his hands in front of his chest, palms facing forward, not the girl standing beside the coffee table facing towards the young woman, not even the young woman, whose arms cradled a rifle, could understand its significance.

"Drop the gun."

And as quick as that, Kristoff had his gun drawn.

Elsa pulled back on the bolt of the rifle. Kristoff got up off the ground. Elsa's finger wrapped around the trigger as Kristoff sidestepped lining up the sights on his pistol. There was a blur of motion as someone shouted "No! Stop!" and the deafening report of a rifle. The glass coffee table shattered leaving debris strewn across the carpet. Kristoff moved in trying to get a shot, as did Elsa, both with lethal intent. _Neutralize the threat. Bring order to chaos._

"Anna, get out of the way!"

"No, Elsa, please! Just put your guns down, both of you."

"Anna, you need to get away from her, she's dangerous."

"Don't talk about my sister like that!"

"Get out of the way, Anna! This crook needs to die!"

"Please, both of you, put your guns down."

The back door could be heard unlocking.

Footsteps and the jingle of keys could be heard coming from the kitchen.

Elsa's grip tightened on the trigger. Suddenly, the front door swung open. In the doorway appeared a man dressed similarly to Kristoff. He had red hair and noticeable sideburns. Unlike Kristoff, he sported a checkerboard pattern on his cap. Elsa let out a growl.

"Westergard!"

Elsa swung her rifle towards the front door. Kristoff shouted.

"Hans! Look out!"

Before Elsa could react, Anna pounced and sent both of them into a heap on the stairs. The rifle fired sending a chunk of drywall flying from the wall. Kristoff stood frozen in the living room with a death grip on his gun. Hans stepped in, taking the rifle away from Elsa and unloading it. Elsa struggled as Anna kept her pinned to the stairs. It wasn't long until she overpowered her. She stood as Hans put on a set of black puncture-resistant gloves.

"Elsa, I don't know what kind of a problem you have with me or my family, but right now you're hurting and scaring a lot of people." He to face her. "This isn't you, but that officer in the living room and the officer in the kitchen don't know that. Don't be the monster they think you are."

"Fuck you! You killed them! You told the devil to shoot the birds so that they couldn't get safe! FUCK YOU! You cut the brake-lines and you injected it into their veins! Fuck you! FUCK YOU!" and at that, she jumped him, a knife in her hand where it was once not.

There was a gunshot.

"Elsa!"

Both of them tumbled to the ground. A grey haired police officer appeared from the kitchen and kicked the knife away.

"What did you do?!" wailed Anna. The officer pointed the gun at Anna.

"Shut up!" He shouted. His epaulettes bore three chevrons.

"Bjorgman! Get her out of here." the officer ordered.

"Sir, she's been through a lot; she just lost her parents-" Kristoff began.

"I don't care! She's obstructing me. Arrest her!"

Unnoticed to any of them, Elsa was beginning to stand. Hans groaned as Elsa's weight was lifted from his chest. A burst of frayed kevlar protruded from his vest over his stomach.

"Sir with all due respect,"

"Bjorgman, arrest her or I will arrest you!"

Without warning, Sergeant Berg raised his pistol and fired two shots. Kristoff spun and found Hans falling to the ground, Elsa wrapped tightly in his arms. Both shots struck him in the back.

"You shot him!" exclaimed Kristoff.

Hans rolled off of Elsa as she attempted to stand. Kristoff pushed her to the ground and handcuffed her. Elsa did her part by resisting. Kristoff depressed the button on his shoulder mic as he started removing Hans' vest.

"551, shots fired, officer down! Send EMS to 9184 Svenson."

Hans managed to speak in spite of his pain.

"Kristoff, don't. Don't call it in."

"You've been shot Hans. It doesn't matter that you're a volunteer. You still need an ambulance."

He pressed the button again.

"551, shots fired. I need EMS, do you copy?!"

"Kristoff, stop. Elsa is all she has left. If Anna loses her, she'll be placed into foster care. She'll have no one."

"What, and you think her lunatic sister is better?"

"Sarge, you know what happens if we call this in. I'm doing you a favour. Work with me here."

Kristoff couldn't believe his ears. "Hans!"

"They're my neighbours, I'll keep an eye on them."

"You need an ambulance."

"My family has a doctor, he's discreet. Does that sound good to you Sarge?"

Berg quietly nodded.

Kristoff shook his head. "I called it in already. It's too late."

"Your radio was switched off, that's why we're here in the first place."

Kristoff switched his radio on. He depressed the button on his shoulder mic.

"551 to dispatch-"

"Kristoff, please." said a voice from the stairs. He turned his head. Anna was sitting on the stairs, crying.

"Don't take her away from me."

Kristoff released his hand from his shoulder mic.

"551 from dispatch, say again."

Kristoff answered.

"551 to dispatch, disregard last."

"Dispatch copies."

Sergeant Berg picked up Elsa's rifle. "This stays between us, Bjorgman. Understand?"

Kristoff shook his head.

"Bjorgman. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sergeant."

Kristoff carried Hans out of the house and put him in Sergeant Berg's SUV. Soon after, Berg sped off, presumably to take Hans to his doctor. In the mean time, Kristoff went back into the house to remove his handcuffs from Elsa. He made sure to search her for weapons before unrestraining her.

"I am now de-arresting you. You are no longer under arrest."

As Kristoff placed his handcuffs back on his belt, he backed towards the front door, keeping his eyes on Elsa at all times. Elsa pointed at him and said: "I'm watching you."

Kristoff shut the door and went back to his vehicle. The word "de-arrest" stuck in his mind as he drove away from the farm. He wasn't even sure if it was a real word. The last time he had saw it was in the title of a video on a shock site of a police officer being attacked by a mob at a community centre: _De-_ _A_ _rrest_ _ing an Innocent Man_.

The officer worked for a city not too far from Arendelle. He was alone and responding to a shoplifting. The thief took refuge inside a rally for a so-called activist group that took more to thieves than to cops. The initial barrage of fists knocked him to the ground. His face was swollen, bloodied, and bruised. Then came the kicks, a stampede of feet and shoes. There was cheering and revelry amidst the feeble groans of the officer. He was stabbed through his bulletproof vest. His vest was removed and he continued to be stabbed-54 times in total. Then he was shot with his own gun. As the crowd dispersed, the video quickly ended.

He survived long enough to be loaded into an ambulance. Every bone in his body was broken.

 _De-arrest_. That was what he did to Elsa Nielson. It was a miscarriage of justice, a moral neglect. Elsa was neither competent nor capable of taking care of Anna. He was sure of it. But he made a rash decision based on emotion. Not just the emotion of Anna Nielson, but from his own past, where everything was torn away from him overnight.

It seemed so convenient that Hans, the auxiliary constable, understood. But what they did wasn't right. Sooner or later, Kristoff would drive down the four-lane road, sirens blaring, lights flashing, only to arrive too late. Too late to save them-either of them.

Empty meadows and flattened corn fields suddenly gave way to shopping plazas and single-family homes. Kristoff arrived in Arendelle.


End file.
